


Tethered and Tied

by bofurrific



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Biting, Crying During Sex, Dry Orgasm, Forced Orgasm, HYDRA Trash Party, Improbable amounts of orgasms, Masturbation, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Puppy Piles, Rimming, Seriously Jules why did you even buy a sybian, Sex Machine, Sex Toys, Sybian, Teaching Winter to Kiss 101, Trans Character, Voyeurism, but for blacklisting reasons, i feel sorry for the soldier's penis, ish, oh boy, shut up Izzy, the winter soldier cannot consent, there's lots of snuggles and kisses, this is trash but it's like trash lite, warning you will be bitten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 21:04:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3089648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bofurrific/pseuds/bofurrific
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/pseuds/Lauralot">Lauralot's</a> fic <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2257455">All Mine (You Have to Be)</a>, some members of STRIKE are less than pleased with the Winter Soldier. </p><p>They show him what it means to be good to your belongings. Using a sybian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tethered and Tied

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [All Mine (You Have to Be)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2257455) by [Lauralot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/pseuds/Lauralot). 



> Julie Anders is my own character and Isaac Murphy belongs to Lauralot, used with her permission.
> 
> The title comes from All Mine by Portishead, which I have never heard, but inspired the title for All Mine (You Have to Be) as well.

It shouldn’t surprise Brock that Anders comes up with the idea. She’s incredibly bitter about the bite marks and bruises the soldier left on her during their disastrous attempt to save Jack. And as the only one with partner, she was always the only one to have to come up with a story behind them. From the way she told it, Rowan had begged her for days to think about a career switch after she managed to convince him it all happened while saving the world.

It _does_ surprise Brock, however, that she owns a sybian. She tells Brock she has an idea to get back at the soldier without getting them all killed and fuck if he’s going to pass that up; he damned near needed stitches after the asset was through with him and Murphy was pulled by medical for two months and is _still_ stuck on light duty. 

Anders takes them to a one room apartment Brock recognizes as an emergency safe holding. It’s tiny and windowless, barren except for a pillow-covered mattress in one corner and an odd saddle-shaped machine in the center. 

Murphy blanches. “Oh man, Jules, not that. That thing’s _torture_.” She silences him with a look that says torture is exactly what she’s going for. Brock doesn’t want to know how Murphy knows what the device is for. He’s seen enough porn himself to know what a sybian does (and yeah, there’s a stirring between his legs he hasn’t quite felt since the Incident, imagining the soldier riding it) but he gets the feeling porn isn’t how Murphy learned.

Jack, ever the voice of reason, asks the inevitable question. “How the fuck are we gonna get him on it?” When all eyes turn expectantly to him, he groans loudly. “Fuck. No. You think I’m going to tempt the Winter Soldier onto a fucking machine? He’ll rip my head off before I’ve got my hands on him. No fucking way.”

“You’re the only one he didn’t fuck up! He sat in your goddamned lap for chrissakes.”

“He stuck his hand in an open wound! What the hell do you call that because I call it painful and unfuckingsanitary.”

The voices raise over one another until Brock has to step up and wave his hands between them to shut them up. Murphy grins and suggests Jack _show_ the soldier that the sybian is a treat. Using Brock. And Jack refuses to partake unless he can humiliate Brock in the process, so Brock doesn’t really have a choice.

Getting the soldier to the apartment is shockingly easy. He hasn’t been on his best behavior, nothing extreme, but distracted enough that Pierce sways easily when they suggest extra training. The soldier takes a seat next to Jack in the van, looking curiously and possessively at the rest of the team, but goes quietly and without question when they lead him to the apartment. 

When they get inside, it’s another story. He catches sight of the machine and tenses up, going stiff under Jack’s hand and growling. But Jack just lets him tighten his grip, even when it’s bruisingly tight, and reiterates over and over that they are still his and this is a treat for him, if he’s willing to let them. It takes convincing to get him through the door, and the rest of the team echoing the soldier’s claim over them, but eventually he comes.

He won’t touch the sybian. He sits down on the floor very far from it and glares. 

“I told you that we were yours,” Brock starts, taking a seat close to the asset, “as long as you were good.” The soldier tenses again, like he knows he hasn’t been, and Brock continues. “You were not very good last time.”

“We’re going to teach you how to be good to us.” It’s Jack now, moving closer, scar glinting in the light. “You like taking care of your things, don’t you, Soldier? We’ll show you how to maintain us.” He sets a hand on Winter’s leg. “We’ll always be yours, but you have to trust us now, ok? That thing in the middle?” He motions to the sybian, careful not to call it a machine lest he trigger the soldier, “It’s a treat. It will feel good. We want you to feel good.”

The soldier still looks unhappy, so Jack leans forward and gently cups between his legs, rubbing the palm of his hand against the soldier’s dick until it rises. “It feels like this, like what you did with the Commander, only a lot better, ok?” The soldier is already rolling his hips up into the heel of Jack’s palm. “But I’ll have to get you ready for it-“

He’s cut off as the asset grabs his hand and snarls, gripping his wrist hard enough that Jack can feel his bones grinding. Brock starts forward but Jack raises his free hand to stop him. “Soldier? It’s all right. I’m going to show you on the Commander first. I’m going to get him ready so you can see. No one is going to hurt you. I promise.”

In the background, Anders mutters, “wouldn’t bet on that,” followed by a short yelp as Murphy punches her in the arm and Brock shouting at her to shut the fuck up.  The soldier just watches them curiously, but releases Jack’s hand and gives them a nod to go ahead.

Free from the soldier’s grip, Jack moves over the Brock, caresses his face and murmurs in his ear, telling him they’ve done this a hundred times. The only thing that’s changed is they have an audience. He swallows Brock’s nervous laughter in a soft kiss, and calls him a little show off when he trails a hand over the crotch of Brock’s pants to find him already half hard. 

For a few moments they forget about the asset and the others in the room, trading slow sweet kisses and rocking their hips together. It’s not long before Brock is wiggling out of his bottoms, going quickly, eagerly, onto all fours, as he had for the soldier but with far more enthusiasm. The soldier watches them, head tilted, and licks his lips in interest as Jack produces a bottle of lubricant, holding it up and firmly chastising him for not using it, citing it the most important part of sex. 

Brock groans impatiently, hips jerking, and snaps at Jack not to turn this into an after school special. Jack responds with a firm hand on the back of his neck, pressing his face into the floor, ass high in the air so the asset can see what he’s doing. Brock goes silent and still, holding his breath for it.

“I’m going to open him up, Soldier, all right? You did that with your fingers before and that was  good, but you have to be gentle and you have to use the lotion or something ok?” Brock whines as Jack goes on explaining, before the cap can be heard opening and Jack’s slick fingers rub circles against his hole. “You want to get him nice and wet first, or it causes him pain. And we don’t want that, do we, Soldier?” He waits for a response, and only after he receives a clumsy nod does he stop the firm massage of Brock’s perineum and slide one finger inside.

Brock makes a low mewl and rocks his hips back, already gunning for a second finger, the good burn of a gentle stretch, but Jack is giving a demonstration, he’s going to take his time. “You have to take your time, loosen him up until he can’t stand it.” He adds the second finger and Brock makes a strangled sound. “He makes pretty noises, doesn’t he soldier?” Jack crooks his fingers until he finds the hard little gland and rubs it until Brock spasms and jerks, swearing breathlessly. “Would you like to help me, Soldier?”

“Oh _god_ , fuck Jack,” Brock gasps as he hears the asset scramble forward. Chancing a peek over his shoulder, he finds the asset with the metal hand clamped over the obvious bulge in his pants, the flesh hand already reaching out to be slathered with lube and then a third finger, the asset’s this time, is pushing in beside Jack’s and Brock has to look away, eyes rolling up into his head.

Jack keeps a close watch on the soldier’s movements, grasping his wrist when he thrusts too hard, and guides him until they each have two fingers stretching Brock’s hole and Brock is a whining mess beneath them. “Turn over Brock,” Jack soothes, free hand running up the length of his commander’s spine, “we want to see you come. Tell him, Soldier.”

Brock rolls quickly, showing off his swollen cock, angry and red, dripping against the fabric of his shirt. “Want to see.” The soldier echoes, and then their fingers are moving faster, harder, rubbing that sweet spot in him with every thrust and he’s arching and shouting, seed spraying across his chest. Jack guides the soldier’s fingers out of him, but continues thrusting his own, fucking Brock through his orgasm, until he’s nodding and gasping and squirming away.

Jack sits back on his haunches looking stupidly proud of himself and wipes his hand off on a handkerchief. He glances up to find Murphy and Anders making out on the bed in the corner and rolls his eyes. “Thought you had a boyfriend, Anders!” He calls.

She snorts and waves him off, pulling away from Murphy’s lips long enough to say, “Yeah well he likes Izzy. How else do you think he knew about the sybian?” And Jack catches the start of Murphy’s indignant response (“I told you not to call me tha-“) before Anders is kissing him again and cutting him off.

Jack shakes his head with a fond smile before turning back to the asset. “Can I do the same to you?” He motions at Brock, who is still collecting himself on the floor, “I’d like to give you that kind of pleasure. We all would. We’re yours, after all.” He waits patiently for the soldier to think it over, watches the way he looks at Brock, who lies panting, legs splayed and puffy hole on display, on the floor and licks his lips before he finally nods.

The move closer to the sybian, although the asset still looks at it warily, and Jack gently maneuvers him onto hands and knees. “The commander is going to help me out with this, ok?” He waits again for a nod and rubs his hands between the asset’s tense shoulders as Brock slicks up his fingers. 

Slowly, unable to believe how well their training is going so far, Brock lets his dripping fingers trail between the asset’s cheeks, pausing when the first touch to the wrinkled skin of the soldier’s hole makes him jerk and twitch, until Jack pacifies him with a hand stroking his hair. He rubs slow circles until the asset’s opening begins to relax under his touch. It’s still not enough for penetration, so Brock ducks his head and swipes his tongue across the pink skin. The asset seizes and yelps, but doesn’t thrash, doesn’t fight them, and  Brock can hear Jack’s steady murmuring, “it’s nice isn’t it? It doesn’t hurt. Let him help you, buddy. He’ll make you feel so good.”

To their right, Murphy and Anders have stopped making out and are staring breathlessly at the visual feast of their Commander going down on the Winter Soldier. “ _Fuck,_ Boss,” Anders gasps, one hand falling to her newly swelling breasts to tweak a nipple. “That’s so hot.” Her other hand strays between her legs and and she grinds up into her own palm. Beside her, Murphy is breathing heavily and mouthing at her shoulder.

Brock ignores them all, lapping steadily at the soldier’s ass, reveling in the eager choking noises the asset makes under his tongue, until finally the muscle has loosened enough for him to point his tongue and wiggle it inside. That makes the soldier downright keen, back arching and nails scratching uselessly at the floor. He tries to buck back into Brock’s mouth and forward away from it, like he doesn’t know if he can stand the sensations.

That’s when Brock pulls away and the soldier absolutely snarls, head whipping around and teeth bared, but Brock chooses that moment to slide the first finger inside, gently pushing past the slight resistance, and the asset goes quiet, eyelids fluttering. Brock moves his finger slowly, letting him adjust, free hand going beneath him to rub at his belly. “Good boy,” he murmurs, planting a quick kiss on the soldier’s ass cheek. He waits until the soldier is pushing back onto his finger to add the second.

The soldier stills at the intrusion, broader and harder to take, but Brock is thorough and patient working him open until he is panting, mouth hanging open, and making sharp little whines like he wants to beg but can’t quite figure out how. He barely notices the stretch of the third finger except for a low groan at the fullness of it. Then Brock presses on his prostate and the soldier cries out and scrambles in their touch. 

Jack caresses the asset’s face, murmuring gently, wordlessly, asking him how it feels, and he doesn’t manage anything other than, “Sharp! O-Oh, not-pain _ohh_.” As Brock rubs it more firmly and he loses his grasp on english, moaning wordlessly and slumping a little. His cock drips on the floor and he looks seconds away from humping mindlessly at the ground. He’s ready.

“I want you to kneel over this,” Jack orders gently, motioning to the machine at their side. “We’re going to slick up the appendage and let it fill you up, ok? Like the commander’s fingers were doing.” Brock is already dripping lube over the rubber cock that Anders assured them would put unbelievable pressure on the prostate as the soldier gives a shaky nod and shifts up on weak knees to position himself over it. 

The soldier eases down over the rubber cock, mouth falling open as his opening stretches to accommodate it. The four surround him, guiding him down with warm hands on his skin until the appendage bottoms out inside him. Anders reaches for the remote and turns it on the lowest setting, barely buzzing, and immediately the asset tenses in panic. It takes a sharp order from his commander to make him still, and more soothing strokes down his back and thighs, Jack’s hand around his angrily-dripping cock, to make him settle.

The dial inches up a few more notches with no further reaction than a sharp intake of breath and for a moment they think the machine won’t have any effect and the training has failed until suddenly the soldier is crying out, cock shooting off untouched. Seed splatters against his own chin and neck and the team makes their move, locking the specially-made Super Soldier cuffs to the asset’s wrists and ankles, effectively tying him to the still-vibrating device. And now the fun can begin.

For several long minutes, the asset does not notice his bonds, still shaking with release and the aftershocks the vibrations carry him through. When they don’t stop, the sweet not-pain he had called it, continuing on, he glances around and tries to move. The engineers have done their best, however, and no matter how the soldier pulls, the cuffs stay. He growls and snarls at them, but Anders responds by turning the machine up several notches and the growl morphs into a high-pitched shriek. The team watches in awe as his cock fills again, dripping steadily into the machine and the soldier thrashes, head shaking violently as another orgasm is ripped from him, this time shooting against his chest.

“Soldier!” Brock bellows over the noise. “Look at me!” It takes several tries to get him to glance up, growling against behind long strands of his hair. He hisses at them, says they lied, they tricked him. He falls silent when Brock raises a hand. “It’s not a trick. It feels good doesn’t it? Intense?” The soldier shakes his head again, whines that it’s too much, and Anders scoffs, cranks it up again until he howls. They still haven’t gone past half speed. 

“You were cruel to us,” Anders snaps over the buzzing of the sybian. “If you are cruel to your belongings, they will be taken away. If you break your gun we will take it, and if you hurt us, Secretary Pierce will take us away.” She fights the urge to turn it up again, angry and bitter over the marks he left on her, the pain he inflicted on her teammates. The soldier goes very quiet after her words and stops fighting. He understands. “Good boy.” She murmurs. 

Brock steps up next. “You are going to be tied to this for awhile, soldier. You are going to sit there and watch as we show you the right way to treat your belongings, ok?” And yeah, he’s going to sit there until he loses his mind, until he would never think to hurt them again. But he doesn’t need to explain that part to the soldier; it will become apparent in time.

Having recovered from his earlier orgasm, Brock settles himself on some pillows that Jack thoughtfully tugged over from bed in the corner. He and Jack talk in hushed whispers, Brock making sure Jack is okay with what they’re about to do and Jack smacking him hard on the thigh because they’d discussed it several times before.

Turning to the soldier, Jack addresses him for the first time since he was tied up. “I don’t mind sucking your cock, but you can’t just shove it down my throat, all right? You’re lucky I didn’t fucking vomit on you. The person needs to breathe, so don’t choke them. And _don’t fucking hit them._ ” And with that he turns back and swallows the Commander’s cock to the root.

Brock yelps, hands flying to Jack’s hair, careful to stroke and not tug, hips rocking in shallow motions as Jack bobs his head. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck, Jack it’s been a long time since we’ve done this,” he moans softly, mostly ignoring the half-choked snort from his crotch because yeah it’s been awhile, this isn’t Jack’s favorite thing to do. On the sidelines, Murphy compliments Jack’s cocksucking skills and gets two middle fingers and a slap to the chest for his efforts.

The soldier is watching, rapt, as Brock starts to shake his head and tug at Rollins’ shoulders. “Come on, man, I’m not a kid anymore I can’t come again yet and still finish the demonstration.” And although Jack promises that he can and he _will_ in a tone that makes the commander shudder, he pulls off of his cock and kisses his thighs instead. In the bag they brought, he pulls out a thick dildo.

Murphy and Anders have settled on either side of the soldier, chatting about how they should have made popcorn for this show, suggest that maybe after they should order a pizza, while Anders reaches over and jerks Isaac off with slow pulls. The soldier spares them jealous glances and aches for a touch to his cock. Murphy marvels loudly over the size of the rubber cock Jack is holding. “Can you really take that Boss? Fuck that looks good. Bet you look good stretched around it.” And when Brock growls a threat, he waves it off. “Trust me, Bossman, you’re not losing any respect from me over this.” He only falls silent when Julie grips his dick too tight and he yelps and gets the picture.

Jack ignores them all and talks to the asset. “I’m going to show you how to fuck someone the right way. You’ll be using your dick. I’m not into that, so I’m using Brock’s favorite toy. And yes,” he shoots Murphy a look of amused exasperation, “he looks good stretched around it.” Settling between Brock’s spread thighs, he kisses away the pout on his commander’s face at being the butt of their jokes again. “Now, Brock is good and open still from earlier, so he doesn’t need much more preparation, but usually you’ll want to give what we gave you, all right? You following me soldier?”

The soldier nods desperately, rocking on the fake dick inside him as best he can, eyes fixated on Jack’s hands rubbing more lube along the thick dick’s shining surface before easing it inside. The Commander’s eyes roll back and he opens his mouth in an unabashedly loud moan and the soldier whines along with him. He’s already close to the third edge and when the toy’s base is flush against the commander’s ass, he finds another release, a few weak spurts of seed, and chokes on the noises he makes. The vibrations do not cease, but Anders lays a hand on his thigh and rubs gently.

Jack is smiling at Brock with a warmth and fondness that he doesn’t afford anyone else. He presses on the toy, grinding it against the shorter man’s insides and making him groan low and long before flicking the switch at the toy’s base, allowing it to spring to life. The vibrations shoot through Brock’s body and Jack swears he can feel them when he presses down on Brock’s tensed belly. He angles the toy to rest on Brock’s prostate, much like the sybian attachment is doing to the soldier and pushes until Brock is thrashing, mouth hanging open and loud cries leaving him with every breath.

“Oh Shit,” Anders mutters under her breath, hips rocking conspicuously. She’s abandoned Murphy to jerk his own cock, her hand finding the soldier’s, somehow still hard and oozing pathetically against his trembling abs, and wrapped her hand around it. She tugs in time with the sharp taps and grinds Jack applies to the toy and the soldier is nearly sobbing, lurching forward into her hand, eyes still glued to his commander. Just as Brock is tossing his head back and crying out, hips going still and body tensing rhythmically as he shoots off, Anders turns up the machine. The soldier makes an intelligible sound and, cock dribbling pathetically, slumps forward as far as the bonds will let him, whimpering weakly. 

They decide to leave him that way for awhile. Brock needs time to recover from two orgasms in quick succession, quite a feat at his age, and Murphy and Anders strike up a game of poker while they wait for their pizza. ("I can't befuckingleave you actually ordered a pizza to this place. This is a safe house for chrissakes, and we have the asset tied to a fucking machine!" "We're gonna meet the guy outside, Rumlow, relax.") Brock stops complaining, however, when it actually gets there, too busy moaning around a slice of garlic bread to care.

The asset watches them when he's not spasming around the device, looking torn between agony and need. Jack sits next to the machine and turns it up in short sharp intervals, just quick random jolts to see the asset cry out and jerk fruitlessly against his bonds. Murphy suggests they try to replicate the rhythm of a song as a kind of game, but Jack brushes it off as too easy to anticipate the pattern. He wants to catch the soldier off guard with every pulse. (Anders jokes that she's never loved Jack more, as when he's her vengeful kindred spirit.)

After awhile, Anders gets it into her head to teach the soldier how to kiss. Brock tells her she's not getting hazard pay if he chews the lips off her face, hand going up to trace his own mouth where the stitches had only recently come out. She just rolls her eyes and moves closer to pat the soldier's cheek, getting his attention.

"I'm going to teach you something, soldier, and I'll turn this down as long as you're good." She reaches a slender hand for the dial and lowers it several clicks until the asset relaxes a little, panting and looking up at her the way he looks at the scientists who offer him pain killers after an injury. "I'm going to kiss you now," she says with a small smile, "try to follow my lead." And she leans in to press her mouth over his. 

The kiss doesn't last. He bites and Anders jerks back, looking ready to slap him across the face. She contains herself and instead grabs for the remote, turning it up all the way. The soldier _screams_ , body tensing rhythmically as he's shoved over another edge, coming dry. Anders leaves the dial where it is until the asset is sobbing. When she turns it down again, looking down at him with disappointment, she says, "if you are good to me, I will be good to you. Do not bite me again."

The others watch a little in awe as she wipes the blood from her mouth and leans in, pressing their lips together again. They get much further this time, with Anders' gentle instruction ("Open your mouth a little, good boy just like that. Mmm, a little less tongue. That's better.") but eventually the soldier gets too lost in it and bites down again. Anders raises her hand as if she means to slap him, blood dripping down her chin, but she only cranks the dial again, turning her back and letting the asset howl. 

She ignores him until he's begging hoarsely, apologizing over and over until the words run together, until the words run out and he's whining, a thin reedy sound, for her to look at him again _pleasepleasepleaseI'msorryIwon'tbitepleaseohpleaseohhhhhhh._ Anders finally turns it down, facing him again. She turns it low enough that the asset slumps as far over the sybian as the cuffs let him, gasping and spluttering, tears dripping down his cheeks. He tries to thank her but his voice is all but gone, eyes glowing with gratitude.

Murphy decides to make his move. Taking a seat behind the asset on the sybian, he gently pulls the soldier upright, hushing the whimper of protest that escapes him as the motion and pressure grinds the rubber cock against his prostate. "I'm going to teach you something too, soldier," he murmurs in the asset's ear, before giving it a gentle nip. Fastening his mouth to the pretty pale column of throat, Murphy licks and nips until he finds the spot that makes the soldier squirm and shiver. Then he attacks it.

The asset’s mouth hangs open but he’s not making any sounds beyond quiet pants and hitched breaths. Murphy is doing his damnedest to suck a bruise into the soldier’s throat, serum or not, and doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that he’s failing. The soldier has no choice but to let him, but he arches a bit into the questing mouth and whimpers until Murphy orders, breathily, that he do the same to Anders. When the soldier moves forward to obey, Anders intercepts his mouth into another slow and deep kiss that makes Murphy lick his lips and groan to watch.

When she draws away, she whispers something in the soldier’s ear that Murphy doesn’t quite catch, and then the asset is twisting as far as he can to get at Murphy’s own throat. The movement pulls a hoarse, drawn-out whine from his chest and Murphy rushes to move into the touch, the soft-hearted one of the group, not wanting to see the asset suffer more than he has to. The asset goes straight for the spot on Murphy’s neck that makes his eyes roll up and hips jerk forward. He gasps, moans breathily, catching a glance of Anders with her arms crossed and a smug look on her face, but can’t do much as the position he’s in sends the sybian’s vibrations shooting through his cock, and the sensation of the soldier suckling like it’s his next mission -and Anders must have ensured that it was- leave him breathless and choking as he finds his release in mere moments.

Before he’s stopped shuddering, Anders is shoving him off of the sybian with a hiss. “You _dick_ , he bruised the fuck out of me last time and you go and encourage him to do it _again?!”_ Murphy whines something from the floor about _nice bruises_ and _dammit Jules don’t break my dick_ , but she ignores him, gently pulling the asset’s face back toward her own. “No bruises.” She speaks firmly before pulling him close to trade kisses, one hand in his unkempt hair, matted with sweat, and the other going to his swollen cock, swallowing the sharp cry of near-pain he makes when she touches him, red and oversensitive and twitching. She seats herself in front of him, hips rocking down in a firm pattern, grinding against the plug inside her until she gets the right angle. 

The soldier is making constantly keening sounds, more long rasping breaths than actual noise, into Anders’ kiss as she calmly licks inside his mouth and tugs his cock. She begins to lose her stride, the sybian’s vibrations pulsing through her plug, after ten minutes or so, during which the soldier sobs and twitches twice more in what they can only assume is another dry orgasm. Anders abandons the asset’s mouth, hand fisted tight in his hair and forehead dropped onto his shoulders, drawing sharp breaths through her teeth as she rocks harder. Her free hand falters on his cock as she tenses up and twitches, giving a soft little cry before she goes still. After a few moments of catching her breath, she smiles up at the soldier and giving him a sweet, close-mouthed kiss.

“You’re such a good boy,” she murmurs, stroking his cheeks and his hair. “Come for us one more time, sweet soldier, and we’ll let you go.” She catches the asset’s tears on her fingers and lips, kissing them away as he sobs desperately and silently, shaking his head. He’s mouthing words, voice completely gone, promising to be good for them, _pleasepleaseplease I’ll be good I can’t please ohhh please._ But he can’t seem to get there, wrung out and begging. Anders feels a hand on her shoulder and shifts to find Jack kneeling beside them, and budges off of the sybian to let him take her places.

“I’ve got this,” Rollins says softly, offering the soldier a smile. “I started this, didn’t I?” He gives the soldier’s cheek a kiss and moves down his trembling body until he reaches his cock, red and overstimulated, and gently closes his mouth around it. Above him, the asset’s mouth drops open and he damned near convulses, sobbing harder as it all grows to be too much. Anders coaxes him into another kiss, but he can do little more than accept her advances, slack-jawed and trembling. Murphy and Brock gather close, pressing kisses and strokes all over his hair and back and face, murmuring all the way what a sweet good boy he is, that they are his and he is theirs and they love him. When he comes, finally, weak and desperate, they turn the machine off and unfasten his ties.

The asset slumps sideways off of the sybian only to be caught by his team, his family, and they haul him, gently, to the mattress and pillows. He makes a low rasp of protest until they pile in around him, careful of his sore muscles and cock, and nuzzle against him until he blissfully passes out, curled amongst his belongings. 

When the asset has his voice back, rough and grating until Murphy helpfully tips a cup of water to his lips, he looks at all of them in turn, gears turning. “Mine?” He rasps quietly, looking like a puppy unsure if the scrap of human food is a trick or a treat. The team looks at one another and nods, leaning in to press kisses to his skin. “Yours,” they echo.


End file.
